


the history books forgot you

by ethclectic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4419899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethclectic/pseuds/ethclectic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>but i still remember</p>
            </blockquote>





	the history books forgot you

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually my first attempt at a fic so do tell me any thoughts you've had, i'm open to any criticism.
> 
> i feel like cho was a very magnetic character in the series and i never understood why people hated her or why she wasn't explored enough. thus, i've tRIED to give her depth and stories and i hope i've done her justice.

the history books forgot you  
but i still remember

 

The sky shivers into indigo as the smoke curls suffocating and thick around the glorious red of the burning incense.

Many things had come out of a night like this.

And a girl with the name like a bell song cries into the night.

 

Her mother is a flurry of pride and nerves, warm hands fluttering as she asks, do you have all your books, do you need to iron your uniform, are you sure you're ready, in a steady flow of mandarin.

Yes mama, she says, and wants to cry at the sight of her tiny, petite mother scrambling for a better foothold on the crowded platform.

Later a boy perhaps a year older donning the regal blue of ravenclaw extends his hand, and pumps hers eagerly.

"My name's Roger, and you are?"

She continues to stare out the window into the murky watercolors of the sunset, before looking at bright eyes and a cocky grin.  
"Cho, Cho Chang," she says. It is the beginning of an illustrious life.

It's been a grueling quidditch match, and laden with arm guards and brooms, six males hover protectively over the smallest member of their team. They swarm together, and Cho is lifted upon all their shoulders, like an offering, for her body is a temple that they all exalt in. They whoop and throw her, robes flailing and black hair soaring as she flies for a moment, isolated from everything around her, and she loves it. Then gravity is imminent and she falls down into a tangle of arms, sweat and joy.

She catches the hufflepuff seeker, Diggory, looking at her and when he returns her grin, she swears she feels her heart shudder to a halt. She's not sure if this feeling is welcome. Stupid, don't you recall what mama says, boys will hurt you. She thinks of heeding her mama's advice. She also spends that night drowning in her sheets and in a pair of startling slate grey eyes. Marietta notices, of course, and when she asks, she gets a hum in response. Cho looks out the window.

Girls like her are quiet and kind and innocent, her mama says, so she conforms most of the time. Take note it was most of the time.

She indulges herself occasionally, a tumble of hair down a docile shoulder and they pant like dogs. Figures.

It's routine by now, it's easy, she's beautiful and untouchable and smart, such that she been able to attract the stares of mooning boys for years. All she's needed to do was to tilt a gentle hip a little to one side, sweep some hair back and smile prettily and they follow her beck and call. She's a raven haired beauty, they say, and then they say nothing else. That's the parts that scare her the most, is she simply a pretty face, a pleasurable spoil, is she truly one dimensional, the possibilities are simply endless, an inner voice hisses as she looks at Roger, eyes crinkling with glee and something else she can't quite place.

They swarm her brain at night, letting her suffocate in the silence of sleep, and she's always running and searching for the answers, trying so so hard to find herself. Kindly glimpse into the future for the moment, for she never really does.

It's the new year, bright lights and fizzling fireworks that no one else celebrates. Mama sends her packages of mandarin oranges and incense that tumble down the house table, and her face remains passive as they laugh at her culture. She hurries out the hall in a whirlwind of robes and embarrassment. Later, as the moon wanes high, Cedric smiles and kneels next to her as the smoke wafts and whispers to the sky.

Harry Potter has a crush on her, and its so painfully sweet and cliche that she smiles anyway. She sees his endless gazes and moony looks, and flattered as she is, she waves at him and subsequently laughs as he chokes on water. Rumours spread like wild fire, but she treasures the moments most when the rest if the school isn't hovering over her shoulder. Cedric is Cedric, of course, and she loves it all the more. They are something the rest don't pick up just yet.

It's the second task, and the story's been repeated to her so many times but she just can't grasp the idea that of all the people Cedric might have treasured, she was the one he saved. Their heads break water, and he kisses her slowly, hair bobbing and limbs entwined deliciously. She can vaguely hear catcalls and hisses but really, all that's in her mind's eye is the feeling of his lips. Her eyes open and Cedric is by her side. 

"I'm okay, Ced,"

But I'm not, he says, and she pulls him closer, closer till there's barely a fraction of air between them. Closer than they were Before.

They go to the ball together, and for a fleeting moment she feared he wasn't going to ask her, until "what colour is your dress? I need to find a right corsage," he says as they walk down a corridor, and she lets out a breath she never knew she held in.

It's something out of her dreams, a fairytale. Twirling in his arms, he is her anchor and they set sail into vast horizons. His whispers flush by her ear, and all she can process is that they'll never be apart, and by god, she'll make sure of it. He promises that he'll always be there, even if she loved another. She takes it with a grain of salt and is content with her head spinning against a steady heartbeat. And for the first time in a while, she feels safe. They waltz out of the hall in a flurry of cream robes and leave heartbreak in their midst.

He is tentative and awkwardly endearing. He bestows kisses so full of teenage innocence and love that it aches her chest. There's another side, a part of himself that he indulges only her, a part of him the school is unawares. She likes both bits of him of course, the parts that burn her skin and the ones that tickle at her heart. There's been instances with her nails scrabbling at his back and the labours of breathing. She lets him in and he worships her, exalts her in an intimacy no one else knows. And as he kisses her collarbone, she thinks that she hears a three word phrase. She whispers it back, and he kisses her hard, coppery tangs sliding over their tongues.

It's nice, love.

Roger catches on, smart boy he is, and corners her on a sunny afternoon. The day smells like dandelions and homework next to the lake, her hair beads onto her forehead as he asks what she sees in that Diggory. She doesn't reply, doesn't consider anything to be of particular importance. But at night as she tosses and turns, she hits the epiphany that she loves him from the top of his chestnut hair to his hairy toes. She tells him that as they drink cocoa at Madam Puddifoot's, and he laughs into his cup, eyes twinkling and rippling.

It's one of her later memories of him.

Another includes a sunny day that felt like butterfly kisses down her back, and a warmth that beat pleasantly on them. They'd found a little clearing amidst lush greenery, and in the essence of young love, had christened it their place. That day, he had lain with his hands in her hair that hung in a curtain around him, as she hummed and nudged his nose with her own. He'd prepared a picnic, a lavishly simple and romantic gesture, and after a while, they had realised they'd much rather prefer tasting pie in each others mouths. She traces her hand over his robes, crosses his heart with her index finger, "your mine, Diggory," she whispers. He looks up hazily, eyes drooping to the succumb of sleep, what did you say? She kisses him once, twice, thrice and repeats herself. He beckons her closer and cups her ear, breath hot and lazy, guess what, you're mine too. She smiles girlishly and he pokes at her dimple as she batts his wandering hands away. She's supposed to be a Ravenclaw, cool calm composed, but for now, she'll indulge herself in his ridiculous fantasies, for she is the blue skies and he is the ground beneath her feet. (Later : This, he had mumbled out before giving in to the clutches of sleep, was the good life. She agreed, and fell asleep with her head in the daisies.)

After the tournament, he had told her that he'll recount every moment, just for you he had whispered slow and low, and she would've kissed all his new injuries and fretted over his bruises. She would have told him all the things she'd never had, and she would have kissed the expanse of his freckled skin, let him burn in an inferno beneath her. 

Girls like her, her mama says, are the ones who get fairytales and the happily ever afters.

Mama, she cries out now, this isn't a happy ending.

It's the last tournament, and he is assuring her that he'll come back safe and sound, not a scratch on me, he's said. And his eyes crinkle as he kisses her soft and tender, she cups his face and reels him in harder. He chuckles into her mouth and she smiles despite her toiling anxiety and fear. I love you, he mumbles, I know, she says. Love you too, she thinks.

Then he is swept away.

The fanfare starts up, and she elbows a path to the champion, Cedric, her mind screams, and it strikes her how much love she hold for him. It's as if she never knew there was room in her heart for anyone else but her mama and her little brother, and then along came Cedric and she feels her heart explode until it fills up a sky, fills up a universe. 

Then Fleur Delacour's scream splits the night sky, and Roger appears. Don't, he whispers hoarsely, and grips her arm so hard its painful. She looks at his face and remembers a cocky grin and bright eyes, thinks about his eyes now, seeking and empty. She pushes him aside and scrambles to the front.

Harry Potter, the boy who has a crush on her, is wailing, strangled voice twisting into the crowd.

She pushes away a sobbing teacher, why are they crying? Everything's alright, Cedric's alright, he promised her, why can't they see? Shoves another despair ridden person aside.

 

 

And then there's Cedric.

 

He promised her.

 

(( A glimpse into the last moments of Cedric Diggory, for despite the many allegations that the image of Cho Chang had flashed before his eyes, there was truly nothing he saw other than a flash of green, a little tingle. He had no time to scream.

Kill the spare.

So easy, so insignificant.  
He is mentioned in passing in the various books she holds on to. ))

**Author's Note:**

> it's rather short but i felt that cho//cedric was short lived and sad and abrupt. maybe thats just me but do leave a comment or view and thanks v much for reading


End file.
